


Five Guys Who Kissed Faf For a Bet (and One Who Didn’t)

by kutubiyya



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Fic Exchange, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kutubiyya/pseuds/kutubiyya
Summary: Deano’s still grinning. “So, I reckon you owe our new captain a kiss or three.”Kagiso rolls his eyes. No-one’s ever going to let him forget that day. Faf’s infectious delight. The teasing in the presser. The whole on-field kissing thing. He finds his lips curving in a smile, but fights it, not sure where this is going.Deano’s patting his shoulder, clumsily. “Go on. Perfect chance to get him back, bru.”Kagiso realises he’s staring across the room again. He’s sure polo shirts aren’t usually that tight. He’s beginning to suspect Faf deliberately wears things that’ll show off his shoulders.--Mistletoe-related silliness at the South African team Christmas party, 2016, as requested by hannnnnie :)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jiminyneesham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiminyneesham/gifts).



> Set during the South Africa team Christmas dinner, in Port Elizabeth, Christmas Eve 2016. Here are, from left to right,[Kyle Abbot (not in this fic), JP Duminy, Faf du Plessis, and Dean Elgar](http://the-glory-of-faf.tumblr.com/post/154903635604/kyleabbott87-merry-christmas-fafdup) at said Christmas party; [here is a video of same](http://the-glory-of-faf.tumblr.com/post/154956664554/sl-tour-diaries-eps-1-a-time-for-family).
> 
> (This is a slightly AU version of said dinner that involved just the team, no families. Also, Dale Steyn is there, even though he's not actually playing, because how could he not be?)
> 
> Enormous thanks to agreedequation, for a lovely and helpful chat on tumblr about who would kiss Faf (and how), and in particular for the idea about who actually put the mistletoe up in the first place. She is a genius <3
> 
> Thanks also to the-glory-of-faf, who may or may not actually read fic (idk), but whose dedication to tumblring about the SA national team is an inspiration <3
> 
> At a difficult time for South African cricket, not least because English teams, both county and national, are (once again!) parasiting on the fact that CSA can't afford to pay its players nearly as well, this is intended as a bit of fun in tribute to a team that always punches above its weight.

It starts – from one perspective, anyway – with Deano elbowing Kagiso. Right beneath the ribs, and none too gently.

“Hey, KG!”

Kagiso chokes on his beer, noisily and elaborately. He even makes a show of nearly dropping the slender green bottle before he finally looks round, but it’s immediately clear that his point (maybe don’t nudge a guy when he’s halfway through a cold one, hey?) has sailed right over Deano’s big square head. The other man’s doing that grin he’s got, the one that takes up so much space on his face that his eyes are just tiny little gleeful curves.

Kagiso sighs, and forgives him; it’s Christmas, after all, and his enthusiasm's hard to resist. “What’s up?”

“Look!” Deano’s attempt at a whisper is not all that subtle, but the music’s probably loud enough to cover it. “Faf’s under the mistletoe.”

Kagiso glances in the direction of Deano’s nod: beyond the cluster of tables, with their guttering red candles and discarded gold party hats, there’s a lone figure by the Christmas tree, intent on his mobile phone. Faf is, indeed, inadvertently standing under the sprig of forking branches, slim green leaves and white berries that attracted some sniggers when Hash pointed it out as they all first trooped in for the team Christmas (Eve) dinner.

(Dale took one look at the bundle hanging from the ceiling, snorted, and wondered aloud why anyone would bother importing European mistletoe when there were at least three different types of _African_ mistletoe right outside in the hotel grounds. Kagiso resisted the obvious joke, because that sort of thing isn’t a joke, not really, and you have to pick your moments, don’t you?)

Kagiso shrugs, and looks away. “So?”

Deano’s still grinning. “So, I reckon you owe our new captain a kiss or three.”

Kagiso rolls his eyes. No-one’s ever going to let him forget that day. Faf’s infectious delight. The teasing in the presser. The whole on-field kissing thing. He finds his lips curving in a smile, but fights it, not sure where this is going.

Deano’s patting his shoulder, clumsily. “Go _on_. Perfect chance to get him back, bru.”

Kagiso realises he’s staring across the room again. He’s sure polo shirts aren’t usually that tight. He’s beginning to suspect Faf deliberately wears things that’ll show off his shoulders.

 _If you’ve got it_ , Kagiso thinks, absently.

You need to keep eyes in the back of your head, in a change room; pranks can come from anywhere, especially when you’re new, and young. Sometimes you spot things.

“Okay,” he says aloud, an idea forming. “Okay.”

Deano cheers. “ _That’s_ my KG.”

Kagiso raises his hands, palms out. “Eh, I’m not going it alone.”

Deano’s cheer falters. “…What?”

Kagiso smirks. “New captain, right? Got to give him a proper Protea welcome to the job.”

Deano’s eyes are narrowed in suspicion, now. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, twenty rand says I can get more of the guys to give Faf a kiss than you can.” Kagiso lifts his bottle to his mouth; lets the thought sink in while he finishes his beer. “Unless you’re too bang to try…”

“Nah, not at all.” Deano thrusts out a hand. “You’re on, bru.”

Kagiso shakes, firmly, and checks his watch. “Two minutes to pick the teams? Or do you need longer, you know, powers of persuasion—?”

“Nothing wrong with my powers.” Deano puffs out his chest. “Plenty of time.”

“May the best kisser win,” Kagiso says, wheeling away, Dale already in his sights.

“Yeah!” says Deano, then: “Wait… what? KG, I never said…”

His voices fades out of earshot. Kagiso grins to himself.

\--

Watching KG throw an arm around Dale’s neck, Dean curses himself for being too slow off the mark; nature boy’s a dead cert for this, he should’ve thought of him straight away. Now he’s already one behind.

In desperation, he grabs at Temba, who’s wandering past, minding his own business.

“Look, you gotta go give Faf a kiss, okay? Christmas present for our new captain.”

Temba laughs. “So Rilee can stream it live? Not a chance. You want to give him a present, kiss him yourself.”

Dean clasps his hands together, like a prayer. “Come on, please…”

Temba’s backing away, still laughing. “Nah, he’s not my type. But you have fun.”

Across the room, KG gives him a cheery little wave. Dean grinds his teeth, and scans the room. He will not go down without a fight. There has to be—

“Quinnie!”

As he darts past the tables, Deano shouts several more times, but Quinnie’s so busy running his fingers back and forth over a candle flame that he doesn’t react until Dean has almost clattered right into him.

Even then, the other man only blinks, regarding Dean with his head still tilted to one side. “Howzit, Deano.”

Dean feels like his smile might be a bit too wide; he tries to rearrange his face into a slightly more normal expression, although as ever, it’s hard to tell if Quinnie has even noticed.

“I, ah, wanted to ask a favour. A Christmas thing.”

Quinnie smiles, dark eyes bright. His hand is still hovering over the candle flame, motionless, like maybe he’s forgotten it’s there. “Sure, what is it?”

With an effort, Dean makes himself look away from Quinnie’s hand, and stop wondering how he isn’t burning himself. “How would you feel about kissing Faf under the mistletoe?”

Quinnie gazes into the middle distance for a long, long moment, until Dean is about to repeat his question.

Quinnie’s eyes abruptly come back into focus. “Yeah, go on,” he says. “ _Ow_ ,” he adds, a second later, snatching his hand away from the flame and glaring accusingly at the candle.

Dean opens his mouth to ask the obvious thing, when he hears someone clearing his throat behind him.

“That’s two minutes. Got your team?”

Dean beams into KG’s smugness - at least KG still only has Dale in tow - and lies. “Yeah… of course!”

\--

Faf isn’t even all that surprised, really, when Dale strides up with a broad smile on his face and a bright pink paper hat on his head, and throws both arms around him.

“You know mistletoe’s a parasite, don’t you?” Dale says. Without waiting for an answer, he plants two exaggeratedly loud kisses on each of Faf’s cheeks, then carries out talking like he'd never stopped. “Who comes up with a custom like kissing people under a parasite?”

Faf shrugs, as best he can in Dale’s brawny embrace. “Who knows why Poms do anything?”

Dale glances down at himself, like he's suddenly remembered what he's doing, and lets go, a touch hastily. “Well. Anyway. Looking forward to bowling for you, Captain Faf.” His gaze comes up again, unnerving in its intensity as ever, no matter how long Faf has known him. “I’m glad it’s you.”

There’s a distant roar in Faf’s ears, suddenly, like the sound of a crowd when you’re hearing it through the wall of a change room. Like the sound of Waca, last month, when he was about to go out for his second innings, knowing JP was coming off the field with 141 under his belt and the Test match was there for the taking.

“I, eh… Me too.”

He’s thinking and not thinking about AB, about the small voice in his head that dared to whisper, once or twice or a little more during the month of success in Australia, that maybe here, at last, he’d found a thing he could do better than AB. (The school-friend he loves like a brother; the man who’s always outstripped him, effortlessly.)

“Thanks,” he starts to say, but Dale’s already been replaced; one of Quinnie’s arms is snaking about Faf’s waist and there’s suddenly a hand at the back of his neck, drawing his face down.

No hesitation from Quinnie, although he's blushing bright enough to lead Santa's sleigh. His lips are warm against Faf’s; they curve into a smile. They’re even starting to part. Faf opens his eyes in alarm, to a field of vision that’s full of Quinnie’s long eyelashes, thinking about who might be watching (the one specific person who might be watching). He’s saved the need to call a halt when Quinnie abruptly grunts, winces, and draws back.

“Ow,” he says, shaking the hand that until a moment ago was gripping the back of Faf’s neck. Words tumble out, slurred and brisk and high-pitched as ever: “Don’t ask, long story, playing with fire, it’ll be fine.”

Before Faf can reply, Quinnie’s wandering off, in the direction of the bar. Faf doesn’t get much chance to frown his confusion after him; KG’s stepping up to his mark, holding out a hand.

“Merry Christmas, skip,” KG says, warmly, as Faf clasps his wrist.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” Faf smiles, now, really smiles. “It’s been pure joy watching you skittle the Aussies.”

“I know,” laughs KG. “You already showed your appreciation.” He grabs Faf’s head with both hands. “This was all Deano’s idea, by the way.”

Deano looks startled; splutters. “I— Eh, he’s talking rubbish, Faf.”

Then KG’s dragging Faf’s head down, and planting a kiss on his forehead, just like Faf did to him at the Waca. He leans in more heavily, overbalances; Faf has to catch him round the waist. “Too much dop, eh? Better be ready for the Sri Lankans.”

KG clicks his tongue; pushes at Faf, playfully. “I was going for your hairline, but… it’s a _long_ way back, brah.” Faf barks a laugh, conceding the point; KG turns away, high-fives Temba. “You’re up.”

“ _Hey_.” Deano steps out in front of Temba, hands on his hips, almost blocking the small man from view. “ _You_ said Faf wasn’t—”

Temba grins. “KG promised me ten rand.”

“I’ll make it twenty,” says Deano, rapidly.

Temba nods. “Done.”

KG throws his head back, hooting with laughter. “That’s the whole bet.”

Deano waves his hands. “Better than losing.”

“That's no fun, it'll be a tie…”

Faf doesn’t hear the rest of it; Temba’s stretching up, on tiptoes, enfolding Faf in a quick hug; Faf leans down to meet the other man, and there’s a brush of lips against his temple. “You’re doing great, skip,” Temba murmurs. “You really are.”

Faf’s feeling the glow of more than just the beer, now; this is _his_ team, finally, he’s not the stand-in anymore.

Talking of standing, KG and Deano are just standing there, watching each other, like they’re torn between facing off and fighting laughter.

“So,” says KG. “Two all."

"Guess we'll have to call it quits."

"Yeah. Unless…” KG looks around at what Faf belatedly realises is a fair-sized circle of spectators. (With one glaring absence: where’s JP?) Bespectacled Hash – arms folded across his chest, laughing heartily – shakes his head. “Don’t look at _me_.”

KG looks back at Deano, a glint in his eyes. “We _can't_ leave it there. How about... twenty rand, and I do a lap of the hotel with no shirt on.”

Deano hesitates, briefly. “Make it just your expensive broekies, and we've got a deal.”

KG preens. “Why not? _I've_ got nothing to be ashamed of.”

(Faf knows he should probably intervene, stop his team from making a spectacle of themselves, but this is much too entertaining.)

Deano shrugs, then squares his shoulders and raises his chin. “Works for me. Right. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” he says. “Faf, would you do me the honour?”

Faf can't resist; he raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to kiss me, or marry me?”

KG cackles. Deano takes a casual swipe at him, without looking round. “Let’s not rush into anything,” he says, and then he joins Faf under the mistletoe, screwing up his eyes tight and lunging forward to plant a smacker right on Faf's mouth.

Faf reaches round and gives Deano’s arse a good squeeze. Sometimes you just have to.

Money changes hands. Deano gets roundly mocked, but seems pretty fine with it. Faf basks in the guys’ good humour for a while, and accepts a bear hug from Hash. Soon he’s being pushed gently out of the way, so Morne and Rilee (mostly Rilee) can ham it up for the iphones.

Then, needing a moment to himself, he slips out of the room.

\--

Faf hasn’t got far down the corridor when he hears a familiar voice, behind him; the voice that somehow still makes his throat tighten and his heart skip a beat, even after all this time.

“It was _you_ who put up that mistletoe, wasn’t it?”

He turns. JP is leaning against the wall; hands behind his back, eyebrows raised.

 _Busted_ , Faf thinks, ruefully, but as he strolls towards the other man he just says, “You’re talking rubbish.”

JP blows a raspberry. “You’re a _bad_ liar.”

Faf holds up his hands in defeat. “How did you know?”

“Intuition.” JP huffs a laugh, shakes his head. “Nah, I saw you. Setting up before everyone else arrived. Not just the mistletoe; the rest, too, the extra stuff on the tree, the little gifts on the tables...”

Faf narrows his eyes. “So you watched that whole time, and didn’t, say… offer to help?”

“It, ah… seemed like it was a captain thing.” JP holds Faf’s gaze, unblinking, and his smile’s so proud and happy it makes Faf catch his breath. Then smile becomes smirk. “Also, I always did like watching you stretch. Talking of which…” He draws a hand out from behind his back, lifts it above both their heads. He’s holding a clump of something; a plant with long, pink flowers. “African mistletoe,” he says, quietly. “Dale told me where to look.”

Faf slips his hands around JP’s waist; glances upwards, savouring the moment, then leans in, for the one particular kiss he’s been waiting for all night.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering why we all like the Saffas so much, [here's why](http://kutubiyya.tumblr.com/post/131802834297/twistsofsilver-lovecricket98-faf-du-plessis). Here are a bunch of them [at Morne Morkel's wedding](http://the-glory-of-faf.tumblr.com/post/104605590284/dalesteyn-how-many-proteas-does-it-take-to-rock-a); Faf is the one at the front wearing the heart-shaped pink specs, and JP is the guy draped across him oh-so-casually.
> 
> A fair portion of the inspiration for this fic (including phrases like "talking rubbish"; alas, I couldn't find a place for "jeepers") came from the Proteas' own tour diaries ([many collected here](http://the-glory-of-faf.tumblr.com/tagged/tour-diaries)); my favourite recent one is [the boys getting competitive over go-karting](http://kutubiyya.tumblr.com/post/155410696347/the-glory-of-faf-aus-test-tour-diaries-eps-1), including quite a bit of Kagiso Rabada and Dean Elgar gazing adoringly at Rilee Rossouw. Firdose Moonda's [recent interview with Faf](http://www.espncricinfo.com/ci/content/story/1072639.html) also helped me fill in some background detail about the captaincy.
> 
> Some relevant gifsets and picspams: [Faf smooching KG](http://sports-and-everything-else.tumblr.com/post/153074478446) and flirting with him during the press conference, during the first Test against Australia at Perth, in November; [Faf and JP](http://leatheronwillow.tumblr.com/post/99715452255/is-there-some-reason-youre-not-all-on-the-fafjp), a celebration; [more Faf/JP](http://leatheronwillow.tumblr.com/post/101318736285/because-we-need-all-the-jpfaf-love-in-the-world).
> 
> For more on the worldwide distribution of mistletoes (no, really), [see here](http://mistletoe.org.uk/homewp/index.php/what-is-mistletoe/other-mistletoes/).
> 
> Please forgive me my clumsy efforts at a bit of South African slang; and please let me know if there are any howlers. The use of both 'bru' and 'brah' is deliberate; I thought Kagiso was less likely to use the Afrikaans version. But I may be - I'm sure I am - missing lots of nuance, for which I can only apologise.


End file.
